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Chapter Nineteen ~ Nelly Caprice

Whilst trying to figure out who subject T was, I realised I had completely lost track of time. Since Carol was in jail I was in charge of running the shop. It was nearly 11 in the morning, so I had to hurry. I grabbed my bag, coat and keys, and ran out the door.

Outside, the strong wind blew through the chilly air. I walked faster and faster down the almost deserted street until I could see the rusted sign above Carol's Collections. I reached into my bag, fumbled around for a bit and eventually found the spare keys Carol had given me. They had an old book keyring attached to it which apparently belonged to the worker before me.

As the door closed behind me I noticed a big pile of books stacked just outside the office door. This must have been what Carol had been working on the day the police came in. The shop felt warm and smelled musty so I decided to open some of the windows. They were very rusty and old and must not have been opened for about 10 years as I could barely push it past halfway. After almost 10 minutes of trying I finally managed to open them. Feeling better, I slowly walked towards the stack of books, brought them towards the shelf and started to stack them.

About an hour later, I heard the door open followed by the jingling bell positioned above the door. I was around the back sorting odd statues into piles and rushed through to see who it was. I thought we finally had a customer but it turns out it was just the newspaper guy. He dropped today's newspaper on the front counter, just like he does everyday.

"Real suspicious isn't it," the newspaper guy said.
"Sorry, what?" I said confused.
"Tyrone Woodburnes murder of course!" He said as if everyone in the whole village knew. I thought about it. Gossip travels fast around here so they probably did.
"Uh, who even is that? And how is that suspicious?" I asked.
"He's the one who got that nutcase Carol arrested. She deserved it too, always sneaking around and being weird that one," he said coolly.
"Carol isn't a nutcase," I said without thinking. But then it hit me. Subject T. That was Tyrone. Tyrone is subject T. That means the pattern continues, it all links to me and Carol. This means someone knows Carol's innocent and is trying to prove it.
"Well I've got loads more newspapers to deliver so I'll see you tomorrow at the same time, yeah?"
"Um, yeah. Bye" I said, paying absolutely no attention to the newspaper guy.

As soon as the door closed behind him, I ran back to the staff room and sat down. So many thoughts were running through my head. The theme has continued. The murderer didn't make a mistake at all; it was a calculated move. Does this prove Carol's innocence? Or her guilt?

At this point I was pacing up and down the small staff room and didn't even notice that the door had opened and a customer had come in. I thought about closing the shop for the rest of the day and just going back home. But then I remembered how Carol was counting on me to keep the shop running while she was away. I opened the door of the staff room and walked back towards my pile of books. But then I noticed someone browsing at some of the book shelves. At first I didn't recognise them, but as they turned around I immediately knew who it was.

"Nelly?"

As she turned around she looked surprised.
"Skye. Is that you?" she asked, alarmed.

Nelly being here just brings back so many bad memories. When I was 8 years old my parents thought I needed a therapist. They sent me to Nelly and I hated it. She was always trying to diagnose me with some wacky disorder and insist I had all of these ridiculous conditions. But they were fake. I was sure of it. There is nothing wrong with me. Not then, not now.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"I was in the area and thought I'd pop into this antiques shop," Nelly said looking around.
"It's not an antiques shop, it's a charity shop. And I think you should go." I said aggressively.
"You're not still hung up on what happened 5 years ago are you?" she said.
"I think you should go." I said again, staring right into her eyes.

Reluctantly, she walked out the shop. She just managed to make a horrible day even worse.